


Ka-boom Ka-boom

by klowntatorship



Series: Cyberpunk fics [2]
Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Begging, Dirty Talk, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Recreational Drug Use, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Trans Male Character, Trans V, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, degredation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:28:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28107048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klowntatorship/pseuds/klowntatorship
Summary: “If you have something to say, fucking say it.”But words never come. Instead, V’s shoved against the wall, the force of the push knocking the breath from his lungs. He hardly has time to register what’s even happening before lips are pressing to him in a bruising kiss. He can’t fucking breathe, and his mind is swimming.
Relationships: Johnny Silverhand/Male V, Johnny Silverhand/V
Series: Cyberpunk fics [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2057706
Comments: 3
Kudos: 203





	Ka-boom Ka-boom

**Author's Note:**

> Can be read in conjunction with my other fic but works fine on it's own too.
> 
> Just some more shameless self indulgent smut because I have zero chill and I am horny on main 24/7. Also my job is brutal so let's call this self care baybee

The world is spinning, a sea of lights passing by him in a blur as he staggers up the stairs towards his apartment. The sounds of Night City fill the world around him; it’s a city that never sleeps. In all his time here, V doesn’t think he’s ever heard the city sleep. Should that day come, he shudders to consider what the cause of it would be.

Adrenaline surges through his veins, the remnants of black lace coursing through his veins like poison. The high wasn’t as intense as it had been previously, dampened by the time since he took it and the amount of alcohol he had consumed. 

It takes him a moment of fumbling before he’s able to gain access to his apartment. His coordination was certainly not what he was sober, but it wasn’t a situation that required precision. All he needed to do was aim for his bed when he got in, and even then, should he miss? That wasn’t the end of the world. It wouldn’t be the first time he had taken a dive and slept on his floor steps away from his bed.

When he finally gets in, the door sealing behind him, he’s met with relative silence. His apartment may have been a shit hole, but as far as being soundproof went? It could’ve been worse. His neighbors’ sounds only came in when there was something particularly rowdy happening, and the sounds of gunshots sounding far more distant than they likely were.

He makes his way towards the lounge, stripping off his jacket and tossing it onto the couch. There was likely little hope in him getting any sleep soon, the lingering effects of Black Lace keeping him alert, so he elected to turn the radio on, The Dirge filling the unsettling silence for him.

“You look like shit.” Comes the voice of his unwanted guest. He can hear the hints of judgment in his tone, and V wholeheartedly believes those judgments are misplaced. 

“You aren’t exactly a saint either, you know.” V points out, shimmying out of his jeans and tossing them next to his jacket. He had seen Johnny’s memories, and some of them were undoubtedly mild in comparison to V’s life. 

“No,” Johnny agrees thoughtfully. As if he could read his mind, and he likely was, Johnny hands V the pack of smokes that lay discarded on the window sill. “But I wasn’t out there looking like a junkie.”

It was a habit he had only picked up in the last few weeks. Before this whole ordeal, he was a casual smoker. Smoking only at parties or clubs and perhaps a cigar when Padre forced it upon him. But since Johnny decided to take up camp within the abyss of his mind, there was a slow-burning craving for nicotine that he hadn’t had before. Perhaps a sign that Johnny really was rewriting who he was. Drugs were another story, however. V had a complicated history when substances were involved.

He takes one from the pack and reaches out for a lighter, which Johnny supplies. He takes a long puff off the cigarette before he finally turns his gaze to Johnny. It’s hard to read his expression when he’s wearing those sunglasses.

All he can see is his appearance reflecting back at him. His blue mohawk looked disheveled despite still holding its shape reasonably well. There were bags under his eyes, and he looked exhausted. Perhaps Johnny had a point with his earlier comment.

“Some of us don’t have the crutch of fame to make our vices luxurious.” V shrugs his shoulders, grabbing an ashtray off his table so he wouldn’t make a mess. The last thing he wanted to do was make a mess for his sober (and hungover) self the next day. 

“It wasn’t luxurious.” There was a sharpness to his tone like V had struck a nerve with him there. 

“Sure it was.” V pressed, knocking off ash into the bowl. “Maybe not to you but your opinion doesn’t matter when you’re in the limelight. You of all people should know that.” 

Johnny merely grunts his begrudging agreement. V considers that a win. 

He could feel the comedown coming, the subtle ache in his joints. For now, it was dulled by nicotine and alcohol. He hoped that this would be the worst of it. He observed Johnny and watched how he tossed his sunglasses to the table, only for them to disintegrate to wherever Johnny went off to when he wasn’t harassing V. 

He would have to remember to ask Johnny about that sometime. 

V turns his attention to Johnny, takes note of the look on his face. It’s hard to read what he’s thinking, what he’s leaving unsaid. V is almost sure it was something misanthropic and brooding. That was always a safe bet with Johnny.

V stubs the half-smoke cigarette out into the ashtray and sets it on the table before turning his attention to Johnny. “If you have something to say, fucking say it.”

But words never come. Instead, V’s shoved against the wall, the force of the push knocking the breath from his lungs. He hardly has time to register what’s even happening before lips are pressing to him in a bruising kiss. He can’t fucking breathe, and his mind is swimming. It doesn’t exactly come as a shock to him; after all, it isn’t the first time they dipped into this territory. But it was the first time they had kissed. 

It’s what he expects from Johnny; skilled and rough. He knows what he’s doing. He knows just when to bite down on V’s lip, to tug at the pierced flesh and how to make V’s stomach flips and turn his joints to jelly.

Reaching up, V tangles one hard into Johnny’s hair, tugging sharply, rewarding him with a low groan. His hair is surprisingly soft, and he wonders how this is even possible. He’s not far gone enough to debate the schematics of this with how Johnny was a tangible being for him. Or maybe he was more fucked up than he thought, and this was just some wicked side effect of Black Lace playing in tandem with the trauma of his parasitic friend. Was this something he should bring up with Viktor?

“Stop fuckin’ thinking.” Johnny murmurs against his lips, pulling away just slightly, so V has a chance to catch his breath. 

“Then distract me.” V breaths, the hand that wasn’t fisted in Johnny’s hair coming down to grab a handful of his ass, pulling him closer. He can feel Johnny’s half-hard cock pressing against his thigh like this. It feels so real that he doesn’t want to question it. All he wants is to keep feeling him.

“If you want to run around playing junkie, I’ll fucking treat you like one.” Johnny mumbles, moving in to trail kisses from the corner of his lips down his stubbled jawline to his neck. V shudders, not quite sure if it was the comment or the feeling of his lips and the brush of his facial hair that made his stomach do flip flops and warmth flood down south. “Just fuckin’ use you so you can scamper off and get your next fix.”

“Where’s that sharp mouth of yours now, kid?” Johnny sneers, his hand trailing down over his torso to settle just above his pubic bone, just barely grazing where he wanted Johnny to touch him the most. “Or do you like it when I talk to you like that? Do you like when I treat you like this?”

V whines, bucking up against Johnny’s hand. Mortification floods through his system like a bucket of ice water has been poured on him. He hated how Johnny has this effect on him. He hates how wet the man makes him and how his clit throbs with need every time Johnny spouts some stupid shit like that. He makes V feel entirely and utterly debased. 

“ _Well_?” Johnny draws his hand away, deft fingers tips gently teasing along V’s protruding hip bones. 

“Yeah, I fucking like it.” V gets out through gritted teeth, his eyes narrowing. Roughly, he pulls Johnny close so he can feel the puffs of warm breath of the other man’s breath on his lips. “So quit teasing and fuck me like a whore, _old man_.”

Johnny laughs, leaning in and kissing V, his tongue snaking in past open and willing lips to explore and probe at his mouth. His hand moves too, sinking past the waistband of V’s briefs to slide through the slick that drips out of him. The sound it makes is embarrassing, but he ignores it to focus on the faint pleasure that it brings. He wants more. 

“You always get so wet, is that just for me?” Johnny asks, eyebrow raised. Slowly, he sinks his index finger past the folds and inside of V’s cunt. He revels in the hitch of V’s breath at the sudden intrusion. 

“Don’t flatter yourself.” V manages, his words shaking as he fights off the urge to rock down onto the finger inside him. While he wasn’t sure if that was true, it was fair to say he hadn’t been with someone who knew how to get him off as well as Johnny did. It was dangerous to even think about. The last thing he needed was to stroke Johnny’s ego. He needed to be taken down a peg or two, not inflated. 

At that, Johnny hums, seemingly content with the answer as he slid in a second finger, continuing to stretch him with ease. V groaned, head tipping back against the wall. This was so much better than doing it himself, even with Johnny’s guidance. Having Johnny be the one to touch him was a whole other experience. 

“Come on, stop fucking teasing, Johnny.” V grumbled, rocking down against the man’s finger. Moving his hand, he grasped Johnny’s hard cock through his jeans, stroking him in time with the movements of Johnny’s fingers. “Don’t you want to _fill me up_? Find out how tight I can grip your cock?”

“Ah shit,” Johnny groans, hips rocking into the touch. Despite the distraction, his fingers never once stuttered or lost their rhythm inside of V. “ _Yeah_.” He adds, pulling out his fingers and wiping them onto his jeans. “Undress, now.” 

V wastes no time in that, stripping off his remaining clothing before leaning back against the wall and watching for Johnny’s next move. He watches the way Johnny pulls off his belt, tossing it aside only to fizzle away into the air before he’s unzipping his pants. It’s a weird thing to watch. 

“Turn around, hands on the wall.” Johnny says as he pulls his cock out of his jeans, giving a few slow strokes. 

V nods as he turns, hands finding purchase on the window sill and positioning himself, so he’s sturdy enough for a good fuck. The last thing he wanted was to test the strength of that window. A gasp tumbles from his lips when he feels the head of Johnny’s cock sliding through his folds, smearing his slick over the length. Eagerly he rocks back against Johnny, eager for him to fuck him.

“What do you say?” V can hear the way Johnny is smirking when he says that. V can picture the smug expression that pulls at his features. It pisses him off, pisses him off knowing it’s well-founded that he knows damn well how he makes V feel. 

“Just fuck me Johnny, _come on._ ” V mutters, rocking back to tempt the other man. 

“Want to hear you beg for it, baby.” Johnny laughs, the metal arm snaking around his waist to slip between V’s legs to toy with his clit. V’s head drops between his shoulders, a sharp exhale getting caught in his throat.

“Please,” V manages through gritted teeth. Johnny doesn’t budge, and he continues idly playing with his clit. “Wanna feel you filling me up,” he breaths before quietly adding a soft “fuck me like I’m just some joytoy.” 

That’s what does it. That’s what elicits a response from Johnny; the last sentence has him groaning low in his throat and hips rocking up into V. 

With the hand that wasn’t toying with V, he grasps his hard cock and lines himself up before sinking in with one fluid motion. V can’t help but cry out at the sudden stretch, he was much bigger than his fingers, and the burn was good. It hurt in all the best ways. 

Johnny wastes no time setting a brutal pace, his hips finding a comfortable rhythm that drew a myriad of sounds from V’s lips. It was one of the best damn things he’s heard. He loved pulling V apart at the seams till the man was merely putty dripping through his fingers.

“God, you’re so sexy like this.” Johnny comments, leaning down to press kisses between V’s shoulder blades. The tips of his hair brushing lightly against V’s skin and drawing goosebumps to the surface. “You take my cock so well, like you were fuckin’ made for this.”

V whines in response, any intelligible thought he may have had lost in his fragmenting mind. Between the overload of sensations Johnny was delivering and the remnants of his illicit activities, there wasn’t a damn thought in his mind aside from expletives and choked moans. The only thing he could focus on was the way Johnny’s cock dragged out of him, only to slam back into him. It made his thighs shake, his grip on the window sill tighten, and his lips fall open. 

V was confident that his neighbors would be able to hear him. Knew that he’d likely be receiving some knowing looks or perhaps even hushed complaints about his behaviors. At this point, he didn’t care. To hell with his neighbors. All he could focus on was how fucking _good_ this felt.

“You know,” Johnny begins, his voice coming out in sharp rasps, punctuated by hard thrusts. The sounds of his hips hitting V’s ass echoing through the room, only dampened by the long-forgotten sounds of the radio in the background. “Nobody can fuck you this good, V. Nobody. No one knows you as well as I do. No one knows just what you like.” 

As if to prove his point, the egotistical bastard moved a hand up to pinch at his nipple while his metal hand moved to grasp at V’s throat. With precision, his grip tightens against his carotid artery, slowly applying pressure. The reaction was almost instantaneously, his body tensing and the walls of his cunt quivering in response.

V was powerless like this. Completely at Johnny’s mercy, only able to take whatever was being given to him. His head swam as his brain was deprived of oxygen, and it felt like he could cum at any moment like this. But as soon as it had started, Johnny’s grip had loosened, and V was drawing in large shuddering breaths to make up for his time without. 

“Harder,” V moans, turning his head slightly to catch a glimpse at Johnny. His expression was painted in pleasure, beads of sweat forming at his hairline, his lips parted just slightly as his chest rose and fell rapidly. He was coming apart just as much as V was; he was just better at hiding it. “Choke me harder, I won’t break.”

Johnny laughs breathlessly but does as he’s told and slowly that pressure is reapplied, but this time, it’s harder. He’s still careful how he does it, and he can feel the way Johnny watches him carefully to any signs of discomfort. For the first time in a long time, V felt safe. It felt good to give up his control, be powerless, and have someone else control him. Use him.

It’s longer before Johnny lets up this time. He holds till V’s vision begins to tunnel, that feeling of pure ecstasy flooding his veins that causes him to shake and shudder against the older man. He makes a strange noise, caught somewhere between a deep inhale and a moan, his body too overloaded to decide which was more important to produce. 

“Gunna cum, fuck, _fuck_.” V babbles, rocking back desperately against Johnny’s stuttering thrusts. They were both beginning to unravel, sounds flowing freely from Johnny now as well. It was music to V’s ears to hear Johnny sound as debauched as he felt. Validating too to know he was able to impact the man just as much as he did V. 

Johnny moans, a low guttural sound as he moves the hand from V’s neck to fist into that damn blue mohawk of his, pulling his hair so that he was forced to face the visage of himself in the window. He looked utterly fucked out, his pupils blown till any traces of his iris’ were gone, scared lips hanging open as moans tumbled past freely. 

“I want you to cum like this.” V’s cunt tightens at the words, drawing a groan from Johnny’s at the feeling. He leans in and presses his lips to V’s ear, moaning lowly. “Want you to cum while you watch yourself getting fucked like my own personal joytoy.” 

It doesn’t take long for that to manifest, a few short thrusts and V’s crying out as his body spasms against Johnny’s. It felt like electricity surging through him, his cunt pulsing wildly around Johnny’s cock. 

“ _Inside_ ,” It takes so much for him to keep his eyes open, but he manages to lock eyes with Johnny’s reflection. His hips were rocking encouragingly for the other man, a silent plea. “Cum inside me.”

Johnny’s eyes fell shut at V’s words, a string of curses and moans filling the room as his lips gave a final slam into V before he filled the man with. And God did it feel good. He could feel the way Johnny pulsed inside of him with each shallow thrust as he pushed through the peak of his orgasm.

They remained like that for some time, working to catch their breath. Johnny was first to move, slowly pulling out of V and watching for the way his cum dribbled out and down along his thigh. With gentle fingers, he pushed two back inside the man ignoring the weak whine of protest as he fucked his cum back inside of V before finally pulling out and moving away from the younger man all together.

“ _Fuckin’ preem_.” Is all V says because he’s not sure what else there is to say. His mind is still recovering from their activities. He pushes away from the window sill and moves to find his discarded briefs, and slips them on. When he gets them on, he locks his eyes on Johnny and is almost surprised to find the man still there. He had half expected him to be gone now that he’d gotten off. But instead, he stood there looking like a hot mess with a cigarette perched between his lips. 

“Yeah it fucking was.” Johnny agrees with a nod of his head as he moves to settle into a spot on the couch. He tips his head back against the back of it and lets out an exhale, the smoke curling through the air before dissipating at the top of what he hoped was a water-stained ceiling. 

“Can you stick around for a bit?” There’s a certain timidness in V’s voice that isn’t usually there. He was usually good at hiding his fears and reservations, but something about Johnny brought out the worst in him. 

“You getting all soft on me now? Going to ask me to snuggle up to you and pet your hair?” Johnny asks, not bothering to look at V. He flushes, annoyance prickling at his skin as he picks his smoke out of the pack and lights it. He opens his mouth to respond, but Johnny speaks once more, “Yeah I can. And hey, V? _Quit that shit_.”

“Huh?” V asks with genuine confusion as he takes a drag off his cigarette. The smoke curls in his lungs, burning and easing his nerves all at once before he exhales.

“The drugs.” V raises a brow as he sinks into the spot across from Johnny on the couch, the vinyl squeaking below his weight. “Last fucking thing you need is to fry you fucking brain and becoming a brain rotted junkie.” 

V grunts in acknowledgment. He wasn’t sure where this was coming from or why the fuck Johnny cared what he pumped into his system. Though he supposes destroying his mind and dancing along with the risk of cyberpsychosis also directly impacted Johnny, V wasn’t sure he even cared. 


End file.
